


Timestamps

by HixyStix (GaiaMyles)



Series: Bill/Sarah [4]
Category: Jericho (US 2006)
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-08-01 22:36:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16293125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GaiaMyles/pseuds/HixyStix
Summary: Stuff that didn't quite make it into the main series.





	1. December 24, 2018

**Author's Note:**

> This will be ongoing, because I can't seem to leave Bill and Sarah alone for too long!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AKA Wes' first Christmas Eve.
> 
> Inspired by Sugarland's "Gold and Green".

Sarah bounced seven month old Wes as she walked around the house, trying to get him to calm down.  Nathan toddled along behind her, dragging a wooden train behind him.  She almost wished Nathan were old enough to help her with his brother, but she also didn’t want him to get any bigger.

That made no sense, yet it’s how she felt.  She wanted grown-up kids who never actually grew up.

The doorbell rang and a quick check out the bedroom window showed the postman hustling back to his car.  Packages?

“Okay, guys.  Mama has to answer the door,” she said, taking Wes back to the nursery.  He screamed as soon as she set him in the crib, but she didn’t know how big the package at the door was or if she could pick it up one-handed.

It wasn’t one package, it was five.  One addressed to each of them, even Sadie, all from Bill’s sister in Texas, stamped with a bright red and green DO NOT OPEN UNTIL DEC. 25TH.  No, there’d been no way she could have gotten all five of them in with one hand.

“C’mon, buddy.  Help Mama out,” she said to Nathan, handing him the lightest package.  “That goes under the tree.”

Nathan managed to carry Sadie’s present and pull his train at the same time, and he helped Sarah arrange the packages under the tree with the rest of the presents.  “All mine?” he asked eagerly, the multicolored lights on the tree reflecting in his wide amber eyes, so like Bill’s.

 “No.  There are presents for you there, but there are also presents for Wes and Daddy and Mama.  Even one for Sadie.”  She laughed at his pout, suspecting he was most upset about Wes getting presents too.  “It’s okay, you still have lots of presents, even if you have to share.”

And he did.  This second Christmas under the re-United States was the first ‘normal’ feeling one in years.  It was the first year they had more presents – for the kids and from friends – than they could fit under the tree.  Hell, it was the first year they’d had a _real_ tree instead of the artificial one that Nathan and Sadie had nearly shredded the lower branches of, with lights strung around it.  Sarah didn’t even fear that they’d have to use the tree as firewood just to survive the rest of the year.

From the nursery, she heard Wes pause his screaming to breathe.  Guess she better stop enjoying the view and get back to being a mom.

 

Bill stacked wood in the fireplace and stuffed in kindling.  It should be ready to go now, just waiting for a match.

Not yet, though.

“Bill!  Can you get Wes bundled up?” called Sarah from the other side of the house.  “Nathan’s being a little wiggly.”

He suspected that was an understatement.  Nathan was an expert at avoiding getting dressed if he didn’t want to.

“Hey there, kidlet,” he said when Wes started trying to pull himself up using the side of the crib.  “You ready to go caroling?”  He got a happy coo as an answer.

He flipped through Wes’ closet, looking for the snowsuit Mimi had originally knitted for Nathan.  It looked like a Christmas sweater with reindeer and even had tiny antlers on the hood.  Ah, there it was.

Finding it was one thing.  Getting Wes in it was another matter completely.  Bill fought with the toddler – where did such a little thing get such strength? – but finally won, around the same time Sarah got Nathan all wrapped up in snow pants, coat, and gloves.

They met in the hallway, exchanging exhausted glances.  “We can still drop them off with my mom,” Bill offered.

“You’re the one who wanted to bring Nathan,” Sarah reminded him.  “It’s just as easy to take them both.”

Bill wasn’t sure about that point, but he loaded both kids in the SUV while Sarah packed up the used stroller they’d bought earlier in the year and a streamlined ‘just in case’ diaper bag – one change for each boy.

Eventually, everyone was buckled in and ready and Bill set off for the church, where they were meeting up with others for a short bit of caroling.  They were hoping it’d tire out the boys and make it easy to get them to sleep.

Maybe he and Sarah could enjoy the fireplace by themselves.  He wouldn’t mind recreating that first Christmas Eve night after the bombs.

“What are you smiling about?” Sarah asked, catching him in his reminiscence.

“Remember the Christmas after the bombs?” he asked.

“We’d just found out about Nathan.  Made it a little scary.”

Not what he was going for.  “No, the bed we made by the fireplace.  We should do that again.”

“Oh, that.”  Sarah got a dreamy look on her face, too.  “As long as we don’t block Santa’s way in, I supposed we can,” she said with an attempt at a wink.

Good thing he didn’t love her for her winking skills.

They weren’t the only ones to bring kids, though Wes was definitely the youngest there.  The Taylors were there, with Woody and Sally.  Bill was impressed they’d gotten preteen Woody there; this was probably incredibly not cool in his eyes. 

“Merry Christmas!” Jimmy boomed, coming over to where Bill stood guard by the car.  They weren’t going to be here long enough for it to be worth unbuckling the kids, so he sent Sarah to get their marching orders while he watched the boys.

“Merry Christmas, Jimmy,” Bill said, even though they’d already exchanged good wishes at work that morning.  Bill was pulling rank to get Christmas Day off, but the sheriff still needed to be there Christmas Eve.

Poking his head in the car, Jimmy wished the boys a merry Christmas, too, tickling Wes under the chin to make him laugh.  “Got presents for you guys in the car.”

Bill panicked for a moment before remembering that Sarah had sent the Taylors’ presents to work with him last Friday.  He hadn’t run off and forgotten them.  “Did you guys open yours already?”

“Nah, we’re making the kids wait.  Patience is a virtue and all that.”  Jimmy clapped Bill on the shoulder.  “I’m gonna go get yours while I’m thinking about it.”

Nathan’s eyes lit up at the shiny wrapping paper headed his way.  He reached out for the presents, but Bill shook his head.

“Sorry, buddy,” Jimmy said.  “I’ve gotta do what your dad says.”  Bill took the presents and set them in the trunk of the SUV, where prying little hands couldn’t reach.

Sarah half-jogged back over.  “They decided to have the adults do the south side.  The new trailer park.  The youth group is going to our neighborhood.”

South side.  Not Bill’s favorite neighborhood in town, but he supposed they deserved carolers as much as anyone else.  “Okay.  See you there, Jimmy?”

“Oh no,” he said, giving Sarah a hug too.  “Margaret and I are chaperoning.  Making sure there’s nothing more than hand-holding and all that.  You know.”

No, he didn’t, but he didn’t have a son in the youth group yet.  Worrying about Nathan and Wes with girls was years away and he planned to enjoy it while it lasted.

 

Singing was not Sarah’s strength and she knew it – she had a very limited alto range – but Bill’s voice was pretty decent.  Not that anyone much would know; he was self-conscious about it and mostly only sang for the kids and in groups where you couldn’t pick out his voice.

Caroling was one of those places.  Sarah stuck close by so she could hear him actually open up a little.  It was the main reason she let him talk her into getting out in the cold every Christmas Eve.  She followed close behind him, pushing Wes in his stroller, a blanket draped over it to keep out the show and chill.  With any luck, the singing would lull him to sleep.

Bill toted Nathan around after he got tired of walking, letting him hold the sheet with the carol lyrics on it.  They didn’t really need them anyway, he and Sarah actually knew all the verses to the major carols.

As they walked from trailer to trailer, Sarah could just barely hear Bill telling Nathan which ones he’d had to visit because of work and which ones housed quieter families.  Nathan didn’t seem to care much which trailer was which; he was more interested in trying to sing with them.  He didn’t know the tunes or much more than a few words of most carols, but he made a valiant effort.

“What Noel?” he asked, in a lull between songs.

“You mean ‘What is Noel?’  It’s French for ‘Christmas,’” Bill explained, as they walked up to a trailer lit up with a Griswold-style white light display.  “’The first noel the angels did say’ means the angels told the shepherds that it was the very first Christmas.”

Sarah grinned to herself, listening to Bill try to explain things so their precocious two year old would understand.  He caught her watching and grinned back, the lights of the house making his eyes shine almost golden.  He’d worn his work jacket – the warmest one he owned – and the lights reflected off his badge too, at least when Nathan wasn’t playing with it.

It was such a nice sight, her husband and their son, that Sarah totally missed the start of Silent Night.  Bill nudged her with an elbow to get her attention.

Less staring, more singing.  She got it.

 

Nathan was still awake when they got home, but Wes was wiped out asleep, too little to be excited about Santa.

This was the first year Nathan had a concept of Santa, so he was especially curious and excited about this stranger who was going to bring him presents.

Sarah took care of Wes, leaving Nathan with Bill.  Probably only fair; she’d had to deal with getting him ready.  Bill wrestled Nathan into the tub, into pajamas, and then into bed, were he read the Christmas story from Nathan’s children’s Bible instead of any of his regular books. 

It took a bit of questions and answers, a second read-through of the story, and a promise of presents _only_ if he went to sleep, but Nathan finally drifted off.  Bill kissed the top of his son’s head, then went and checked on Wes, still conked out.

Time to light that fire.

Sarah was already laying out quilts and blankets in the floor between the couch and the TV.  Bill stopped to take off his shoes before crossing their makeshift bed.

They met in the middle for a quick kiss, skin still the tiniest bit chilly, before Bill checked the fire one more time and lit it.  He hunkered down and poked at it until the logs caught.

“Looks good, babe,” he heard behind him, and there was Sarah in nothing but Christmas pajama pants, the shirt laid out on the couch.

His brain stuttered for a moment.  She laughed quietly and crawled over to start stripping him, too.

“We’re recreating that Christmas, right?  Well, we didn’t exactly go to sleep right away.”

No, no they didn’t.  And they didn’t tonight, either.

They’d have to wake up in just a few hours to put out the gifts from Santa, but as far as ending Christmas Eve?

This was pretty damn perfect as far as Bill was concerned.


	2. October 6, 2020

**October 6, 2020**

****They’d made it to their seventh anniversary.  After the bombs, Bill had thought they wouldn’t make it to their third.  They survived the ASA too, for a few sketchy years. Two kids, too.

Now here they were, in their second year of being United States citizens again – and their seventh year since they said “I do.”

Bill sat at his desk, looking at the picture of Sarah that he kept on the right corner, where he could always see it.  He loved that picture almost as much as he loved her.

There was a light rap on the door to his office and he looked up to see Sarah herself.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.  “Is everything okay?”

She stepped in and held a hand out to him.  “Kids are at mother's’ day out and everything’s fine, but you’re stepping out of the office for a bit.  Come with me.”

Bill gave Sarah a look. “Babe.  I can’t just leave mid-morning.”

“I’ll have you back by lunch,” she promised.  “Maybe the end of lunch.  You’ll have your radio on you, if they need you.”

Bill knew he wasn’t going to win this argument.  He took Sarah’s hand and followed her from the station.  A couple of deputies, manning the office, watched her lead him out with something like amusement.

Hmph.  Let them get married and see if  _they_  wouldn’t do the same thing.

“Where are we going?”

“We’re going to get my anniversary present,” Sarah replied lightly.  “And maybe yours, too, if you like it.”

Well, Bill was lost. He let Sarah bundle him into the van and rode with her down Main Street to Jericho’s only jeweler.

“You want jewelry?” he asked, confused.  Sarah didn’t really wear much jewelry day-to-day.

“Not for me,” she explained.

Oh.  He had an idea now.  “Sarah, do we really need to spend money on this?”

Sarah shot him a glare. “For four years now, you’ve gone without a ring.  That’s over half our marriage!  Things are normal again, you’re working a regular shift again – heck, you even have weekends off!  This should go back to normal, too.”  A frown crossed her face.  “Unless you’ve decided you don’t want a ring?”

Bill glanced down at his hand where a wedding band should be.  He used to wear his grandfather’s; he’d lost it the night of the bombs when it was stolen by the fugitives that stuffed him and Jimmy into the trunk of their own patrol car.  He could still hear the one man’s cheerful “Mine now,” as he plucked the ring off Bill’s finger.

A light hand touched his leg and Sarah was watching him, concerned.  “You’re thinking about that night and the trunk, aren’t you?  I was hoping this was a way to put that behind you.”

Sarah made sense. “Let’s do it,” he said, “before I change my mind about the money.”

They walked in, hand-in-hand, and perused the cases until they found men’s wedding bands.  Sarah pointed out a simple gold one, like he’d had, but others caught his eye.  There were different widths and styles and metals – some even professed to be titanium.

“Do you see one you like?” murmured Sarah.

Bill had zeroed in on a few plain ones: the gold band Sarah pointed out, a silver one that matched it, and a silvery titanium one that didn’t seem quite as rounded as the other two. He thought that one might be more comfortable; less metal sticking out from his finger.

He nodded and looked up, catching the eye of a saleswoman.  

“Would you like to try some on?” she asked.

Bill pointed out the three he’d picked out.

With an amused smile on her face, Sarah watched the saleswoman size Bill’s finger.  “I knew you’d go for the plain ones,” she said.

“If you knew that, why didn’t you just buy me one yourself?”  Bill wasn’t upset; he was just curious.

“I might have been wrong.” She shrugged.

Bill tried on the three rings and based on price, had it down to the silver or the titanium.  They didn’t look much different.

He was wearing the titanium one when the saleswoman said, “That a popular one these days.  Titanium doesn’t tarnish or scratch easily.  Lots of men like the durability.”

That sold Bill on it. He might spend most of his days behind a desk, but he did get summoned to help with a call every now and again and you never knew what you were getting into.  Durability would be good.

Sarah paid for the ring and insisted it go in a ring box instead of letting Bill wear it out. “I’m keeping you until lunch, remember? You’ve still got an hour.”

What else did she have planned?

He figured it out when she drove over the Tacoma Bridge.  They were off to Stanley’s, where he’d proposed to her.

Sarah got a market tote out of the back of the car and carried it halfway up the rise to Stanley’s house, about where they’d been the night of the proposal.  She instructed Bill to grab the blanket from the trunk.

He spread it out and waved at Mimi and Caroline, who’d come out to the front porch to see who was there. Sarah must have cleared this beforehand, because Mimi waved back and led Caroline back into the house.

Motioning for him to sit down, Sarah pulled out sandwiches and two small bowls of salad.  “Sorry it’s not more gourmet.  I didn’t know how long you’d take at the jeweler’s.”

Bill grinned and reached for his sandwich.  “Whatever you made is perfect.”

“Good,” Sarah said. She pulled the ring box out of the tote and sat on her knees facing him.  “Because I want to ask you to wear a ring again.  To profess to the world you chose someone to spend your life with, and that that someone is me.  To choose me again.  Will you, Bill?”

Her speech was more eloquent than his proposal had been, but Sarah had always been better with words. If he also thought this was less daunting a situation, he kept that hidden away.

He took the ring from her and put it on.  “Babe, I choose you every single day, ring or not.  And every single day, you’re worth it.  I’ve never doubted it, but if I did, all I’d have to do is look at the boys to know it’s worth it.”

He leaned in and tugged lightly on the back of her neck, pulling her closer.  She went down on hands and knees and he kissed her, holding one cheek in his hand.  “Happy anniversary,” he whispered when they broke apart.

Sarah sat back up and reached for his left hand.  She kissed his fingers just below the ring.  “I choose you, too,” she said.  “And I hope we have many more anniversaries together.”

“We will,” Bill said. “We’re going to grow old and decrepit and make Nathan and Wes take care of us and this ring better still be shiny or I’m going to go back and complain that I was misled about the durability.”

Sarah laughed and the sound was music to Bill’s ears.


	3. November 2043

**November 2043**

Bill and Sarah pulled up to the farmhouse.  "You ready for a loud meal?" Bill asked Sarah.

Sarah laughed.  "It's not going to be so bad. We do this every couple weeks."

Bill grinned.  "Okay, but you have to admit Stanley's loud when he's happy."

"I do. But you're right there with him."

"I am not!" Bill protested, even though he knew it was true.

Sarah just grinned at him as she got out of the truck.

Nathan greeted them at the door.  "Come on, dinner's almost ready!"  He hustled them straight to the table where Caroline was piling up fried chicken.  Bill knew it was her cooking - Mimi had never learned much beyond baking cakes.

Just as Bill predicted, the meal was loud and full of laughter - his own included.  There was a lull as everyone started eating and Bill noticed Nathan and Caroline having a silent argument.

Nathan must have won, because Caroline frowned briefly.  She cleared her throat.  "Um.  So.  You might want to know that we'll need an extra chair in a few months." 

Everyone stopped and stared at her. B ill saw realization cross Sarah's face, but he'd missed it.

"We're gonna have a baby. In May," Nathan explained, sounding proud as anything.  Caroline looked down and put her hand on her stomach meekly.

Bill's jaw dropped.  Nathan having a kid?  He was still a kid himself, only twenty-eight.  Okay, that was older than Sarah had been when they married, but still.  Too young.

Wait.  That meant he'd be a grandfather.

Oh no, he was not ready for this.

 

Bill said as much to Sarah as soon as they got home.  "They can't have a kid," he hissed.  "I'm not ready to be a grandfather.  I'm not old yet!"

Sarah laughed, holding his face in her hands.  "Bill, babe, we are more than old enough to be grandparents.  Nathan and Caroline are more than old enough to have a baby.  You're just going to have to accept that."

Bill pulled away, his whole world shook.  "But grandparents are supposed to be old and retired and smell funny.  I still like working!  I can still do the PT test the deputies do!  We don't smell funny!"

"Sixty-two, Bill.  You're sixty-two.  Look at Jimmy - Woody and Sally are both married with kids.  Woody's oldest is fifteen!  If Jimmy's old enough to be a grandfather to a teenager, you're old enough to be a grandfather to a baby."

Bill stood there in the kitchen, wrapping his head around that.  He shook his head to clear his thoughts.  "Good God, we're going to be grandparents," he said slowly.

Sarah patted him on the cheek.  "There you go, hon, you're getting the idea."

Bill looked at her, panicked.  "I have to figure out what grandfathers  _do_."

"You had a pretty good one, I understand.  Just do the stuff he did with you.  Do the stuff you did with the kids.  Take 'em shooting.  Take 'em fishing.  Tell them stories - and make sure you embellish them all so you're a hero.  You want them to brag on their grandfather like you did yours," Sarah said, all too sensibly.

"I guess..."  Bill wandered into the living room and collapsed in his chair.  "Grandparents.  Wow."

"The next challenge is figuring out what you want the baby to call you," Sarah mused.  "First grandkid sets all the precedents."

Bill ran through some of the more modern name choices, but kept coming back to the classic.  "Grandpa Bill," he said.  "Simple is best."

Sarah squeezed his hand.  "There you go.  You've got the hang of this now.  You still in shock?"

Bill shook his head.

It was a lie.


End file.
